Those who do not aspire to a big family do not aspire to greatness.
I got up from reading about the Nephites’ slippery possessions at the computer. What would that be like? Sleeping with your stuff every night so that it didn’t get stolen?
I leaned over to run the virus checker and then went to lock the doors for the night. Was that the dog barking outside?
Mormon and Moroni 9 are the horror chapters of the Book of Mormon.
But they are necessary.
They show that God really does make us free. We are free to choose for good or for evil. Our choices matter. We can make destruction happen if we choose.
No one prides themselves on not murdering, but in fact that is something you could do, it is something people have done, and it is to your credit that you don’t. But only to your credit in a world where murders happen.
RIP Chuck Yeager, first man past the sound barrier.
Barrier breaker, sound swallower.
Sky soarer, yesteryear’s yonder.
“The first time I ever saw a jet, I shot it down.”
Here is a historian doing a wonderful imagining of what a medieval charge would have been like.
Last night I was out under the stars splitting farm chores with a neighbor when I listened to the Christmas Devotional from the phone in my pocket. The devotional lacked those minor cringes that had crept in the last few years–at least in audio. It had Christmas beauty, and most of all the talk by Elder Holland.
He talked about the birth happening at night, and night as the time for dreams. He quoted Parley P. Pratt about revelation through dreams.
This morning as a I built the fire I was rueful about the long and tedious dream I had. “I love the cool dreams that have insights,” I thought, “but what is the point of those daily life ones where you do mundane things for hours on end?” I thought it was especially ironic after hearing the Pratt quote.
I heard the Spirit giggle.
Here was my dream. Summarized, because it really was that long and boring.
We were at a ward party of some kind at a picnic ground up in the mountains. From the look of things it was Indian summer. Everything was brown but it wasn’t cool. Only a few families had shown up and we awkwardly sat around trying to make conversation and go through the planned activities with barely anybody. This went on at GREAT length. Finally about half of the few families there left, having put in the requisite showing.
I went down the dirt road a bit with a couple of my kids, down the hill to the main campground where the entrance was. There was a long tedious sequence where we were walking on dirt and kicking rocks and such.
At one point–yes, my dreams are indelicate–we then pulled off to the side of the road so I could find a tree to pee on. About that point I saw several trucks and vans pulling into the main entrance and I remember thinking ruefully, ‘I bet they are coming this way, I am going to have to wait to pee.’ Sure enough, they did. It was all late arriving members of our ward. I waved cheerfully but somewhat antsily to each family as they drove by. I remember thinking ‘ha, those families that left forgot that everyone was going to show up around now [the time in my dream was about quitting time from work plus driving distance]’ Finally the last of the caravan passed me, I peed, and that was the dream.
It really was tedious.
But like I said, the Spirit giggled.
It quickly brought to my mind that sitting through the tedium but leaving before the fun really gets going was a strong metaphor for life.
Moral: Don’t leave before the party gets started.
Too many of us practice getting the medal but never practice the sprint.
In courtship and elsewhere, we see and ape the manners and methods of the victory parade and know nothing of the victory.
On the sweetness of Mormon life.
You drive a recent convert to Church. He is half drunk and reeking. His father just died. You say what you can.
You bear you testimony. You try to say, “Christ already won the victory, the Baby was already born”; you cry.
Your daughter plays O Little Town of Bethlehem on the organ.
Eventually.
